


i'm no angel, but i've spread my wings a bit

by Kellygirl, skripka



Category: Heroes (TV)
Genre: Cliche, Crack, Cussing, Gen, Wingfic, brothers being brothers, maybe it's not as cracky if it's heroes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-04-05 21:43:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19049008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kellygirl/pseuds/Kellygirl, https://archiveofourown.org/users/skripka/pseuds/skripka
Summary: I can't go around like this unless it's Halloween.  Think of something.





	i'm no angel, but i've spread my wings a bit

Of course Nathan had a key to his brother's apartment. It wasn't out of the ordinary; Peter was young and tended to get in trouble, and Nathan's job was to fix things, and for that to work, he had to have access at all hours.

The white feathers on the landings and staircase were new, but, then again, Nathan had never thought much of Peter's building. Maybe someone was making a costume or sacrificing chickens. He grimaced at the thought and stepped around a particularly large pile.

Nathan slid the key into the lock (it fit smoothly--none of the sticking that unused keys sometimes had) and opened the door without knocking. It might have been abrupt or possibly rude, but he was responding to Peter's call. Nathan had always been there when Peter needed him.

"Pete?" The living room was empty, and so was the kitchen. Nathan did knock on the door of the bedroom before opening it. "You in here?"

There were feathers on Peter's floor. A trail led to Peter's bed where Peter sat, his bare feet on the floor. Nathan opened his mouth to ask what the problem was when he saw them. Wings. His brother had wings. They flowed out of Peter's back and stood a little above his head. 

"Peter, what the hell happened? _How_ did this happen?" 

Peter stood and more feathers floated to the floor. "I don't know Nathan! That's why I called you. I went out last night and I got that tingle I get sometimes, when someone with a power is near. While I was walking home, my back started itching and these...things started growing! Feathers everywhere." Peter looked freaked out.

Nathan couldn't stop staring. "My God...," he whispered. "Does it hurt?"

The wings flexed and a few feathers drifted in the air around Peter's head. "Not really. Itches like a motherfucker, though. Still." Peter twisted his arm and reached to scratch under a shoulder blade.

"Language," Nathan replied, automatically and distractedly, still thrown by the sight of his brother with a pair of angel wings.

Peter rolled his eyes. "Whatever. It itches and I can't reach everywhere. It's a pain in the ass."

And the language kept coming. Nathan took a deep breath and coughed slightly as some feather dust got into his throat. "So, you called me from midtown, hoping that I'd scratch your back for you?"

"Oh, hell no." Peter moved and the tip of a wing bumped against Nathan's knee. Nathan stepped away, a little freaked out by the _realness_ of this. "Sorry. I just need a plan. I can't exactly imagine leaving the apartment like this." Peter somehow managed to gesture to himself even as he pulled on a pair of loose jeans.

Nathan blew out a breath. He couldn't get past the wings. "Why would you grow wings? You can already fly." 

Peter buttoned his jeans. "Well, I didn't do it on purpose. Geez. Look we gotta think of somethin'. I can't go around like this unless it's Halloween. Think of something." 

Nathan stepped closer and touched a wing with one finger. It was soft. He traced the connection from Peter's back to the top rounded edge and down to the feathers. Peter shivered and his eyes met Nathan's. "What?" Nathan whispered. 

Peter shook his head. "Just feels funny. Different." He walked to the bathroom and a few feathers landed on the floor behind him. 

Nathan followed and leaned against the door. "Have you tried thinking them away or in or something?"

Peter turned to give Nathan a look. "No, Nathan. Of course I didn't try thinking them away the very moment i realized I had fucking _wings_ growing on my shoulders, because I am clearly an idiot."

"Sarcasm is the tool of a weak mind." Even Nathan winced as he said it out loud. Damnit, he was really starting to sound like their mother. Thankfully, Peter didn't rise to the attack, too busy staring at the mirror.

"Obviously, they can be hidden." Peter trailed a finger over the arch of bone and shivered. "I mean, I didn't notice anybody with giant honking feathery appendages on the street, and I like to think I'm observant."

Nathan nodded. "Especially at night, when there aren't as many people around."

"Exactly." Peter splashed some water on his face, dried it off, and looked at Nathan via the mirror. "I could go out if I turn invisible, but that's been giving me a headache and I'm out of coffee."

"Coffee?" Sometimes Nathan had trouble following his brother's train of thought. 

"You know, the stuff you drink that's hot with lots of caffeine?" Peter shrugged, the wings settling into what seemed to be a relaxed position, and managed to look a little sheepish. "I was going to get some groceries this morning. But I can't, not to mention that I don't think I have a shirt that's going to actually, you know, fit."

"Coffee?" Nathan repeated. "You called me down here because you're out of coffee? Since when am I your errand boy?"

"Since I have wings, Nathan! Damnit, do you want me to end up in some lab? Just...please get me some coffee so I can try and think about what to do, okay?" He ran a washcloth through hot water and washed his face. Nathan realized Peter wasn't as at ease as he'd been acting. He was freaked out and Nathan couldn't blame him. He couldn't imagine spending the night watching wings grow out of his back.

Nathan flipped open his phone and told his driver to run by the deli and grab a pair of grande lattes. He'd be down to get it in fifteen. Peter finished washing his face and squeezed Nathan's shoulder. "Thanks."

Nathan nodded and said, "I'll have someone deliver some groceries, too." He brushed Peter's hair back. "We're going to figure this out. Where's Dr. Suresh? Maybe he can give us some clue about what to do."

Peter walked back into his room and Nathan trailed behind him. He sniffed at the wings. They gave off a faint smell of baby powder. He wondered if Peter knew it. A sudden image of Peter with a bow and arrow, grumpily shooting hapless people to make them fall in love, made him chuckle.

Peter turned and frowned at Nathan. "What?"

"Nothing." Nathan somehow managed to swallow the smirk, and although Peter still looked suspicious, he dropped it.

"Worst thing, though," Peter continued, conversationally, "is that it's really damned hard to find a comfortable position to sit or lie down. And I'm getting tired of standing."

Nathan frowned as he examined Peter's back. "Lie on your stomach?"

Peter nodded. "Yeah, that's about all there is. I just never got used to sleeping that way." Despite his complaint, Peter crawled onto his mattress and lay down with his head on his folded elbows. "You really think Mohinder can help?" His voice was weirdly muffled, but plaintive, and Nathan was suddenly reminded of Peter in sixth grade, wanting reassurance about Dad... 

Nathan ruthlessly bit off that line of thought and sat beside Peter, wondering vaguely if it was okay to touch. "Yeah, Pete. If anyone can help, he can."

Nathan paused with a hand over Peter's back before he gently patted Peter's neck. He laid his hand between Peter's shoulder blades and didn't move it. When Peter didn't react he rubbed and lightly scratched the reddened skin. Peter moaned and open his eyes. "Keep going." 

Nathan scratched all the places Peter hadn't been able to reach. "Got any aloe vera? Maybe that'll help." He tried to ignore the way Peter squirmed on the bed. Peter made a affirmative sound and Nathan got up to search the bathroom. He found a small bottle and made a mental note to get more at the store. He warmed the gel with his hands and massaged it into Peter's back. 

"I'll call Mohinder after I pick up the coffee. You eat anything?" 

Peter shook his head. "Not hungry." Nathan sighed. Peter never did like to eat when stressed out. "Want me to order a pizza?" Peter shrugged and Nathan took that for a yes. He wiped his hands off on a towel. "That help?" 

Peter smiled. "Hell, yes." 

Nathan rolled his eyes. "Did the feathers take away your manners? I'll be back with the coffee in a minute."

The walk downstairs was cooling, but Nathan still loosened his tie. He managed to reach his secretary, pleading a family emergency as he took the coffee from his driver. He hung up and balanced the coffee tray in his hand. "Take the rest of the afternoon off, Richard. I'll take a taxi home later." The big guy nodded and did his customary half-salute. Nathan smiled back and made a note to give the man and his secretary big bonuses this month. 

He and the coffee managed to get back into Peter's apartment without incident. Nathan took one cup out of the tray and left the other on the kitchen counter. He pushed open the bedroom door, only to find Peter snoring quietly on top of his covers. Nathan snorted in amusement, but backed out of the room as quietly as he could.

Coffee could be reheated. Peter obviously needed sleep more.

Nathan took a big drink of his coffee and made himself comfortable on Peter's sofa before finding Doctor Suresh's number in his directory. He pressed send, and waited as patiently as he could manage for Mohinder to answer.

After Nathan explained the problem to Mohinder--well explained it two times--the man finally agreed to come over. Nathan snorted quietly to himself. You'd think a man that had seen what Dr. Suresh had seen would be more easily convinced that Peter now had a pair of angel-type wings. 

Nathan flipped channels and checked on Peter again before a knock on the door signalled Mohinder's arrival. Nathan opened the door and studied Mohinder as Mohinder studied a white feather he held. "Is this one of Peter's?" 

Nathan beckoned him in and gestured at the bedroom. "See for yourself. He's sleeping because he was up all night." 

Mohinder peeked into the bedroom and then backed out. The look on his face was one Nathan thought was reserved for kids on Christmas. "This is amazing! And Peter says this all happened last night?" 

Nathan sighed. "Yes. Can you think of any way to get rid of them?" He knew Mohinder was a scientist and they loved to study things. He'd allow Mohinder to study Peter but only as a way to get rid of the wings.

"Not without a lot of experimentation." Mohinder considered as Nathan internally rolled his eyes. "Peter's power seems to be unpredictable and mostly intuitive. For now, the best thing to do is wait it out, see if he gets it under control. There haven't been any repeats of the Kirby Plaza incident?"

Nathan shook his head. "No. It's only this wing thing that's a problem right now."

Mohinder nodded. "Good." He reached into his messenger bag and pulled out a very large hypodermic needle. "There's a very strong sedative in here." A stoppered vial followed. "And an extra dose."

"This is your big advice? You want me to drug my brother?" Nathan found his fists clenching and a snarl rising in his throat.

"It's an emergency situation!" Mohinder didn't back down; Nathan gave him credit for that, at least. "We don't know how any of this works, and considering the history..."

Reluctantly, Nathan backed down and nodded. He took the syringe and vial, and grimaced. "I won't need to."

Mohinder blinked, but merely stated evenly, "I sincerely hope you won't."

When Mohinder left, Nathan sat back down on the sofa, twirling the vial in his hand. It wasn't even labeled, so he couldn't look up what it would do to his brother in any of his nursing books or online. Nathan made his decision and stowed the drugs in a tupperware box in the fridge. Peter would know how to deal with this stuff better than he would, anyway.

The creak of the bedroom door alerted Nathan, and he turned to see Peter standing there, wings and all, rubbing his eyes. "I heard voices," he mumbled.

Peter looked like a sleepy angel--a very adorable, sleepy angel. Nathan was tempted to go ahead and tell that to Peter, but decided it would be better to save it for another occasion. Instead, he wordlessly got Peter's latte from the fridge and nuked it for a minute. Peter smiled dreamily at the smell of the coffee, and drank most of it in one long swallow.

Nathan ordered the pizza since he was starving, and he was still sure that Peter needed something in his stomach. "Make a list of what you need. We'll call a grocery order in, so you'll have some stuff." 

Peter nodded and sat. The wings spread and adjusted as Peter tried to get comfortable on the couch. After a few minutes he grumbled, "This worked better on my bed." He tried again and ended up sitting on the very edge of his couch, the wings folded behind him. 

"Why don't you sit on the back of the couch?" Peter glared at Nathan, but tried it anyway, balancing his notebook on his knee. Nathan continued, conversationally. "Mohinder came by, said he needed to do some research. Left a big needle and a vial of what he claims is a sedative." 

Peter frowned. "What does he think is going to happen? I'll molt so many feathers, New York will choke?" 

That was the first thing today that made Nathan laugh. "Have you tried using them?" 

Peter shrugged. "Not really. Mostly I've been trying to scratch and not go insane because I have feathers. I mean, come on Nathan. Feathers! I feel like a bird." 

Nathan rubbed Peter's knee, soothingly, and tried not to let his smirk show. "I don't think they make really big bird cages but I'll get you the best seeds and a nice swing of some sort." 

Peter glared at him for a long minute, drinking in Nathan's sincere expression, before starting to laugh.

Nathan touched a wing. "Try and use them. Maybe once you can control them, you'll be able to conceal them."

Peter frowned, his eyebrows knitting up in concentration. Nathan moved his eyes from Peter's face to the wings. "Anything?" asked Peter, tightly.

Nathan shook his head. "No."

"Damn." Peter frowned again, then suddenly a light appeared in his eyes. "Wait, what about..."

There was no warning. Nathan had to duck as Peter's wings spread with a palpable crack.

"Shit!" Nathan rubbed his knee where he had landed, hard, and glared at Peter who was laughing. The wings were huge--they took up most of the apartment. Nathan noticed that the tip of Peter's right wing had knocked a glass bowl onto the floor, shattering it, and managed to not feel too smug that he wasn't the only thing injured. "Jesus, Peter, what the fuck's wrong with you?" 

Peter snorted another laugh. "Language, Nathan." The wings folded, then snapped out again. "Okay, this is actually kind of cool."

"How about something less--show-off-y," Nathan muttered, deciding that he could feel bitter about his knee.

Peter snorted again as he folded his wings again. "Is show-off-y even a word?" One wing, this time, then the other. "I'm getting the hang of this."

Nathan watched as Peter spread the wings out over and over. Folded, they'd looked almost delicate but spread out Nathan saw that the wings were more than capable of supporting Peter if he had to use them to fly. They also had a sheen to them so when they were spread they seemed like they were brighter. "Do you need to go up to the roof?" 

Peter gently flapped the wings. A few other things fell on the floor. He bit his lip. "That's probably a good idea. I wonder when the sun sets." He drew the wings back in and relaxed. 

Nathan thought he already seemed more in control of his new unexpected body parts. He shook his head. "Only you, Peter." 

Peter stretched one wing out and moved it up and down. Then he drew it back in and stretched the other one out. "Yes, Nathan because I totally chose this. I decided I didn't have enough problems and went out and searched for the most inconvenient power ever. Just be glad I didn't run into some sort of wolfboy." 

Nathan considered what he knew about wolves. "Don't they piss on things to mark them?"

Peter looked at him. Nathan looked at Peter. The complete absurdity of the situation hit, and suddenly, they were both laughing.

Nathan gasped and tried to catch his breath. "I will tell you this right now--if you _ever_ pee on me I will beat you with a rolled up newspaper."

Peter snorted and suddenly, they were laughing uncontrollably again.

Fortunately, Peter's buzzer sounded, interrupting them before they actually started rolling on the floor. Nathan answered, because Peter was still chortling. "Petrelli."

"Giovanni's Pizza. I have a delivery?" was the grainy answer.

"Yeah, I'll be right down." Nathan released the button and pointed at his brother. "Get a grip. Food's here."

Peter snickered, but at least Nathan didn't hear any full-blown gales of laughter as he jogged downstairs, wincing and slowing down as his bruised knee complained. He gave the delivery guy a fifty and decided he was in a generous enough--and hungry enough--mood not to pick through the change. 

Two beers each and two and a quarter expensive, but well-worth it sausage and green pepper (and one with mushrooms) pizzas later, Nathan groaned. "God, I've got to stop eating like this. I don't have your metabolism any more."

"But it's so good." Peter sounded sleepy and sated. Nathan turned to see his brother's blissed out face.

Something was missing, though. "We should watch the game." If Nathan was going to play hooky, he might as well go all the way, he figured.

"Too bad I broke the T.V. before." Peter gestured at the cracked screen.

Nathan frowned. "Oh, yeah. Damn." 

Peter yawned and scratched his head. Nathan kept looking at him and squinting. "Hey! They're gone! What happened to'em?" Peter looked behind him like a dog looked for its tail and Nathan burst out laughing. He may have had a little too much to drink. 

Peter stood and rushed for the bathroom. Nathan joined him and they inspected Peter's back. There were faint lines where the wings had come through but they were gone. Nathan ran a finger down the lines and Peter shivered. "Don't...don't do that." Peter's voice was a little breathless.

Nathan had to stop his finger from tracing his brother's shoulders again. "Why not?"

Peter slid him a look that was a little too heated. "You don't want to know." Peter turned to examine his back in the mirror again. "I can't believe they're gone. Just like that. So what? I needed some food?" 

"When's the last time you ate?" Peter frowned and didn't answer. Nathan sighed with frustration. "Damnit Peter, do you even remember?" 

Peter unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them and his boxers off. Nathan turned around, but heard Peter get in the shower. "Yeah, I remember. It was just a long time ago." The water turned on and Peter sighed in pleasure. 

Nathan shut the door and half-shouted, "Jesus, Peter, if you wanted the bathroom to yourself, just say so."

Something that vaguely sounded like "Fuck you, too," came from the bathroom as Nathan examined the mess of feathers in Peter's bedroom. He grimaced, and decided that Peter could clean them up himself. Nathan would deal with the glass shards, because he knew his brother had the habit of walking around barefoot. 

Another reason for Peter to call Nathan away from work. Nathan dug in the hall closet for Peter's dust pan and gave Mohinder a call.

It wasn't much of a conversation, and Nathan hung up, convinced yet again that Doctor Suresh was improvising as much as the rest of them were. But he did agree to keep the sedative nearby and to at least try to get Peter to eat regularly. Even if Nathan thought he'd have no luck doing so, maybe the threat of itchy wings would remind Peter.

And if they did come back, then at least Peter could somewhat control them. None of which was going to stop Nathan from looking up and memorizing all the Cupid, angel, and bird jokes he could find.

Nathan smiled to himself as he started sweeping up glass. It was good to be prepared.

**Author's Note:**

> Title is a quote by Mae West. Sometimes you want to write, and sometimes you need help. Thanks to my dear evil twin for putting up with my insanity. (Post-midnight crack is the best. Seriously. )


End file.
